


Armitage 'Tigger' Hux

by Zigzagwanderer



Series: The Very Thought Of You [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Developing Relationship, Hux Is British Aristocracy, M/M, Ren is his manservant, Secret Relationship, Set in late 1930's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21538375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zigzagwanderer/pseuds/Zigzagwanderer
Summary: To those who have been so kind as to follow/comment on my 1930s-1940's Au......this is for you. Set just after 'Worth the Yearning`.Thanks to anyone who reads my stuff!!! You are the best!!!
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Series: The Very Thought Of You [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623457
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	Armitage 'Tigger' Hux

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MsModernity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsModernity/gifts), [Asrael_Valtiri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asrael_Valtiri/gifts).



Hux rediscovers the old hut, deep in the woods, overgrown by a madness of sex-scented briar-rose.

He parts the petals and spreads his coat upon the floor. 

They are still learning what it means to be with one another, this way, that way; brambled and vined together.

Hux kisses Ren as if he has belonged inside Ren’s body _always_ ; Ren kisses Hux as if he cannot quite believe that Hux is finally _there_. 

“Lord God in heaven, Ky…” 

Hux pulls out and leans back. Licks Ren’s honey from his hands.

“Oh, my dearest, my darling, my boy…” 

Hux is drowsy with love, now, emptied now, yet full of love, and as rosy and withered as an apple at summer’s end. 

“I should have bloody well brought us here _weeks_ ago.”

Ren is turned, his breast bit and bleeding; he is dripping and his hole feels pricked by thorns. 

He whispers into a sweat-wet, freckled hollow, “I wish we could stay all night.” 

“I used to,” Hux confesses, kneeling, palm to palm. “Once upon a time. When Father beat me and I ran and hid.” 

“It was dark, and cold,” Ren clings. 

“Yes, my lovely. And I did not have _you_ to save me.”

Ren clings, then, all the tighter; Hux unwinds him and stretches out them both.

The late sun spills itself across his thumb-bitten thighs, in thick stripes of roping gold. 

Ren cannot stop skimming his nails along the lines of sweat and shadow. Up into Hux’s tawny crown.

“Tigger.” 

“Hmm?” 

“That’s what your friends call you. Phasma...and your wonderful, dashing, Duke of Dameron.” 

Hux slaps Ren’s arse. 

“Just a damn silly shortening of my name,” he growls, pleased at Ren's display. “And no, my darling, you may definitely _not_ call me _that_.”

It is an unfairness amongst unfairnesses, yet Ren starts to grow, at the sting of the blow.

And his own jealousy. 

It is, sometimes, lately, all that saves him from despair.

Sir. Master. Lord. Patron. Liege. 

“Armitage,” he asks, finally, “what name would you prefer, then, from me?” 

Friend. Soulmate. Lover. Master. Slave. 

Hux flicks his lighter on and off. The flame makes an animal yellow of his eyes. 

“If I could, my love, I’d have you call me _husband_ , and all this world could go to hell.”

He slowly lights his cigarette, and smokes, and purrs with pleasure, as Ren begins again.

“But when you fuck me, my sweetheart, you can call me anything you damn well like.”


End file.
